6th November 2014 to 6th November 2015
A year has passed
of dormant emotions lying in the sheets
of unknown perplexity.
Opening and closing of closures
and of deeds never achieved.
A year has passed
of escaping from and sometimes running into
the darkness or the light
of another feeling flying
in the vast grasslands under the sky.
A year has passed
of never really writing
of writing and hiding
of sharing the writing
then wondering why did I share.
A year has passed
Upholding in my gut
changing with the world
letting go of certain things
and still adamant on some.
A year has passed
I know none of you
I know some of you
I live in the paper boat
Floating over the chances of knowing you.
A year has passes
my ink has dried
turned from black to grey
like the thoughts that I hid
somewhere in my chest.
A year has passed
I rely on myself
the world is a silly place I tell you
at the end, for yourself
Its only you.
A year has passed
I see some faces brimming up repeatedly
I can depend on them
They feed my irregular thoughts
I wish one was mine in those.
A year has passed
of accepting the fact that
I am not impeccable, I am deniable
I am not a rear view mirror
I am not closer than I appear.
A year has passed
Finally figuring this out
'This' is me
Trying to achieve the dreams
which are stupid to others.
A year has passed
from where I was
to where I am
supposedly where I will be
in another year from now,
would you wait to see?
'A year of dormancy' is written just one year after my last post on my blog. My blog which was once so crucial to me, which I nurtured like my own little one, doesnt even exist for me now, unfortunately. I grew indifferent to my will for writing. I wrote in hidden crevices and denied sharing. I was quite the opposite a year back. I certainly come in those people who prefer saying 'I wrote for you', instead of 'I felt for you'.
This post is out of anger and disappointment with respect to the fact that I left writing. Or writing left me...........Or perhaps it never did.
A year has passed
of dormant emotions lying in the sheets
of unknown perplexity.
Opening and closing of closures
and of deeds never achieved.
A year has passed
of escaping from and sometimes running into
the darkness or the light
of another feeling flying
in the vast grasslands under the sky.
A year has passed
of never really writing
of writing and hiding
of sharing the writing
then wondering why did I share.
A year has passed
Upholding in my gut
changing with the world
letting go of certain things
and still adamant on some.
A year has passed
I know none of you
I know some of you
I live in the paper boat
Floating over the chances of knowing you.
A year has passes
my ink has dried
turned from black to grey
like the thoughts that I hid
somewhere in my chest.
A year has passed
I rely on myself
the world is a silly place I tell you
at the end, for yourself
Its only you.
A year has passed
I see some faces brimming up repeatedly
I can depend on them
They feed my irregular thoughts
I wish one was mine in those.
A year has passed
of accepting the fact that
I am not impeccable, I am deniable
I am not a rear view mirror
I am not closer than I appear.
A year has passed
Finally figuring this out
'This' is me
Trying to achieve the dreams
which are stupid to others.
A year has passed
from where I was
to where I am
supposedly where I will be
in another year from now,
would you wait to see?
 |
| Picture Courtesy - Hardik Photography |
'A year of dormancy' is written just one year after my last post on my blog. My blog which was once so crucial to me, which I nurtured like my own little one, doesnt even exist for me now, unfortunately. I grew indifferent to my will for writing. I wrote in hidden crevices and denied sharing. I was quite the opposite a year back. I certainly come in those people who prefer saying 'I wrote for you', instead of 'I felt for you'.
This post is out of anger and disappointment with respect to the fact that I left writing. Or writing left me...........Or perhaps it never did.
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